First Day, Yo
by JoeMerl
Summary: It's Ezekiel's first day at public school, and he's determined to show his dad that he can get by without any problems. Of course, he's destined to fail, but at least he has a pretty new friend to help him out. Ezekiel/Bridgette, AU, TDI never happened.


**Author's Notes:** My submission for Crack and Fanon Week, Day 5: "High School." And _man_ did it wind up longer than I expected! Heck, Bridgette doesn't even show up until about halfway through, so it's sort of more an Ezekiel story with Bridgekiel romance than a straight-up Bridgekiel fic...I guess. Whatever, hope you enjoy!

* * *

"_Ooh,_ this is gonna be off the hook, yo!"

Ezekiel bounced in the seat of his father's pickup truck, his body trembling with nervous excitement. His father sighed, giving him a sideways look before turning his eyes back on the road.

"Settle down, son. This is nothing to get excited about. _Really,_" he added, grumbling slightly.

Ezekiel forced himself to sit still, but there was no quashing the manic grin on his face. "I'm just so excited, eh! I can't wait to start real school. I wonder if the classes are gonna be harder than Mom's—what do _you_ think, Dad?"

"Don't worry about your classes, son. We make sure to keep 'em nice and easy so that all the _stupid _kids can keep up. You do just fine." He turned the corner, finally bringing the high school into view.

Ezekiel gazed at it in wide-eyed wonder, his smile only growing wider. He was always awed by just how _big_ the local high school was—though by objective standards, it was actually a bit small, if anything. Ezekiel had hardly ever even seen the school, despite the years that his dad had worked there—though of course, his dad made it pretty clear that he didn't _like_ his job, and seemed almost irrationally worried about what would happen if Ezekiel got involved in it. Admittedly Ezekiel enjoyed being homeschooled, and his parents insisted it was better for him academically (apparently none of his dad's students had ever even _made_ it to the National Spelling Bee Championship), but especially when you lived miles away from the nearest town it wound up getting pretty lonely, eh? It had taken a lot of coaxing from Ezekiel and his more indulgent mother before his dad had agreed to at least let him _try_ it for a few days.

Ezekiel began to unconsciously bounce in his seat again, getting more excited the closer they got. "Ooh...I can't believe I'm finally gonna get to meet other teenagers!" he gushed. "I'm soo excited! I can't wait to finally get some homies to be chillaxin' doo'n with in the hizzouse, dawg!"

"...Ezekiel? Speak English or when we get home, I swear I'm putting all of your hip-hop CDs through the wood chipper."

"Yes sir," Ezekiel said quickly, shrinking in his seat.

They pulled into the tiny staff parking lot, which was already filled with cars. Ezekiel's father cursed under his breath. "Stupid Maclean..."

"What, Dad?"

"Aw, one of the dang drama teachers stole my spot again. _Ugh,_ now I gotta find a new place, get you to your first class, rush back for a parent conference before _my_ first class—"

"I can get to class by myself, eh."

"No, no, I'll help you, I have time..."

"Aw, come on, Dad! Please?" Ezekiel put his hands together, smiling nervously. He didn't want to come right out and say it, but he was sort of worried that his father was planning to follow him around all day, as if Ezekiel couldn't manage on his own. For some reason his dad never seemed to think that Ezekiel could do simple stuff like that—something that Ezekiel was hoping this school experiment would help to disprove.

His father paused, giving Ezekiel a long look. "_Well..._alright. You have plenty of time if you get lost, at least." The car stopped; Ezekiel grinned as he grabbed his pack-back and jumped out. "But _listen,_ son—you be careful, alright? I don't want you getting into any trouble."

"I woon't cause any trouble, eh! I promise," Ezekiel said, drawing himself up proudly.

"Yeah, well, I trust you not to_ cause_ trouble, but that's not the same thing as not getting _into _it," his father said, grimacing. "It's the _other _kids I'm worried about. Now I'll see you in my class fourth period, okay?"

"Alright, Dad! Ooh, this is gonna be _great! _I'm gonna take this school to the max, y'all! _Jiggy!_"

Ezekiel ran away from the car, giddily pumping his fist and jumping into the air. His father watched him go, then shook his head, sighing.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to go well?" he muttered before driving off to park.

* * *

The school was somehow even _bigger_ on the inside, Ezekiel thought, eyes going wide as he gazed around the vast atrium. It was awe-inspiring; he had seen schools like this on the TV before, but it was totally different to actually be _standing_ there, like he had somehow managed to jump through the screen right into the middle of the show. The floors were so shiny, the hallways were so long...he grinned again. He felt like he was in a dream, he was a kid in a candy store, ready for fresh discoveries and a new beginning and—

"_HAT OFF INSIDE!_"

"_GAH!_"

Ezekiel jumped so high his head almost graced the ceiling. When he landed he spun around toward the source of the scream—he was alone in the atrium, but halfway down the right corridor he saw was a tall, muscular black man glaring at him, a chef's hat on his head and a broom in his hands. Ezekiel blinked confusedly.

"What?"

"Take the hat off, maggot! You're inside now!"

Ezekiel blinked again, trying to make sense of that statement. "...Soo?"

"_TAKE THE HAT OFF!_"

Ezekiel jumped again and snatched off his toque, shoving it hastily into his jacket pocket. The man rolled his eyes and went back to sweeping, muttering under his breath.

Ezekiel frowned and turned away, his heart still racing in his chest. _Weirdo_...Ezekiel shook his head, then reached into his jean pocket to take out the class schedule that his dad had gotten for him. Let's see...his first class was French II with a teacher named "Tremblay." Okay, he was good at French...or at least, he hoped he was. He felt a slight twinge of worry, recalling that he had never managed to read more than three-quarters of the way through _Le Comte de Monte-Cristo _without turning to a translation—hopefully they wouldn't want to bump his down to French I for that or something.

Now all he had to do was _find_ his class...Ezekiel glanced at the three hallways branching off from the atrium, and decided to first try the one _farthest_ from the chef-hat-wearing janitor (who was now humming "Puff the Magic Dragon" under his breath). He started down the left corridor, glancing from his schedule to the doors, searching for Room 133.

Half an hour later, he had searched through every hallway and _still _hadn't found it.

By this time the buses had already pulled up and kids were crowding into the hallways. Ezekiel was starting to get nervous—everybody else was moving around so _effortlessly,_ jumping from their locker to their friends' lockers and darting in and out of classrooms, and here _he _felt hopelessly lost, having passed just about every class number _except_ the one he was looking for. He wasn't used to being around so many people, or of feeling so confused—it hadn't even occurred to him to find his locker yet, and his pack-back was really starting to make his shoulders ache. He was sweating profusely under his jacket from both physical and mental strain.

He glanced at the clock—five minutes before his schedule said class started. Hmm. Ezekiel decided to ask somebody—he glanced around; more and more people were disappearing into their classrooms, leaving the hallway mostly empty. He searched for someone who wasn't either already talking to someone or rushing to their room, settling on a pale girl sorting through her locker, her back turned to him.

He tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, eh?"

The girl turned, quirking one eyebrow at him. "Yeah?"

Ezekiel forced a nervous smile on his face—this was probably the first time he had talked to someone his own age since the Spelling Bee, he thought. (Not that _that_ had gone well.) "Helloo'. I was just wondering, do you know where Room—your hair is _blue,_" he suddenly noted, pointing at it.

The girl's eyebrow rose higher as she glanced at her short, highlighted hair. "...Yeah?"

"_...Huh._" Ezekiel stared at it for another moment, fascinated, then turned back to her, smiling again. "Neat. Anyway, coo'd you help a brother find Room 133, please?"

"Room One-Thirty...you mean Madame Tremblay's class?"

"Yeah, that's the one!"

"Yeah, that's sort of a weird—see that hall over there by the stairs?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, well, go down there towards the cafeteria, then—"

She was suddenly cut off when her locker slammed shut—Ezekiel jumped and turned to see a tall guy standing over him, glaring down with cold blue eyes, one of which was pierced. He poked Ezekiel in the chest and the former homeschooler stumbled backwards, his pack-back pressed against the lockers.

"Hey, you. Were you talking to my girlfriend just now?"

The blue-haired girl sighed, putting her face in her hand. Ezekiel gave her a sideways look and assumed she was the one the guy was returning to. "Yes," he said honestly, nodding at the unnamed punk. "Hey, your hair is gre—"

Ezekiel suddenly found he couldn't speak, all the air having been forced out of his lungs as the green-haired boy slammed his fist into Ezekiel's stomach. He let out a gasp and started to fall onto one knee, but almost immediately he was hoisted back up by his shaggy brown hair, held eye-to-eye to his attacker.

"I don't _like it _when guys talk to my girlfriend. _Capisce?" _

"_No, non capisco,_" Ezekiel groaned, which was apparently the wrong answer, since the next thing he knew the guy had punched him in the face as well. He let out another moan, feeling a suddenly wet warmth as blood dribbled onto his upper lip.

Some of the other kids were watching now, muttering among themselves, while the blue-haired girl just looked annoyed. "Duncan! Seriously, lay off, he was just asking me where his _class _was!"

"Oh, yeah, _sure_ he—"

"_Duncan!_"

The boy called Duncan groaned and suddenly released Ezekiel's hair; he fell onto his butt, groaning again and blinking blearily. Another had suddenly pushed her way through the other spectators—a brunette with a fierce snarl on her tanned face. She was followed by a pretty girl with a blonde ponytail, who covered her mouth slightly as she saw the bloody, beat-up boy whom Duncan had been beating on.

The brunette turned up her nose. "_Ugh_—beating up _another_ random bystander, _ogre?_"

"Mind your own business, Courtney!"

"My _business_ is to enforce the rules of this school. And once I report this to Principal Linus—"

"Oh, you nasty little—"

The two began to yell at each other, with the blonde girl occasionally snapping at Duncan and the blue-haired girl snarking at both of them in turn, but Ezekiel's head was spinning too much for him to follow the course of the conversation. Instead he just held his finger under his nose, trying to halt the flow of blood, and occasionally glancing at the blonde girl, whose attention seemed divided between him and the argument.

"—and pick on someone your own size for once!"

"Oh yeah? ! Well, why don't _you_ go shove a—"

Just then the bell rang; Duncan and Courtney both seemed startled, and most of the spectators immediately ran off to get to class. The blue-haired girl grabbed her boyfriend's arm. "Come on, Duncan, let's just _go,_" she said, finally managing to drag him away.

"I am _SO_ reporting this!" Courtney vowed, shaking her fist at them. Duncan glared back and flipped her off. Courtney gasped, then fumed as the rest of the hallway emptied, leaving her and her friend alone with Ezekiel.

With everyone else gone, the blonde girl came forward and bent down next to Ezekiel. "Hey, you okay?" she asked gently, putting one hand on his shoulder.

"_Ugh..._not really," he muttered. He examined his sanguine finger as more blood dribbled onto his chin.

"Oh, man, you look pretty beat up. No offense," the girl said, unconsciously touching his injured nose. Ezekiel tensed up for a moment, his heart suddenly beating a bit faster. "You should probably go see the nurse."

"The...huh? I—I doon't knoo' where..."

"You don't—hmm. Courtney?"

The brunette was startled out of her fuming. "Huh?"

"I think we need to take this guy to Nurse Von Tussle's office."

"What? ! Uh..." Courtney made a face; now that Duncan was gone, it seemed her main motivation for helping Ezekiel had left her. "Well...I don't know, I'm actually supposed to get to the gym to supervise the homecoming decorations..."

The blonde sighed. "Alright. If you stop by class first, just tell Mr. Lee where I am, okay?"

"Got it."

Courtney left; the blonde girl turned back to Ezekiel, tugging gently on his arm. "Hey. Are you okay to stand up, kid?"

"Uh...I think soo..."

The girl helped him climb shakily to his feet; he swayed slightly and she let him lean on her, a hand on his back to guide him as he walked. He thought that that wasn't really necessary—he was a bit shaky, but overall okay—but didn't mention it, allowing the girl to guide him.

He probably looked like an idiot, he thought. Some guy beat him up, and it took a pair of girls to come rescue him. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around, dashing heroes saving girls from nasty villains and all that? He sighed inwardly.

They walked in silence for a few seconds, Ezekiel wincing as he tried to stem the flow of his nosebleed, before the girl asked, "So, what'd you do to tick Duncan off?"

"That stupid guy? I have noo idea," Ezekiel said, shaking his head. "I just coo'dn't find my first class, so I was asking the weird girl with the blue hair—"

"Gwen isn't weird," the girl said, sounding a bit defensive. "Though I admit I don't get the whole 'goth' look myself..."

"The huh?"

"Er, nothing. So let me guess—you were just talking to Gwen, and Duncan went ballistic on you?"

"Exactly! It was totally whack, yo."

"Yeah...Duncan's been like that a lot lately," the girl grumbled, shaking her head. "Just about the time he and Gwen got together, he went all..._nasty_ on everyone. Not that he was exactly Mr. Sunshine before, but at least when he was with Courtney—"

"Coortney?" Ezekiel screwed up his face, not used to having to juggle so many unfamiliar names; it felt like he was watching a new soap opera. "That other girl you were with?"

"What? Yeah..." She sighed, blowing a stray lock of hair from her face. "See, he was with Courtney the last couple of years, and he was already sort of...you know, like _that,_ but he could be sweet too. I mean, he was sweet to _her_ at least. Then I don't know _what_ happened—he got suspended for a while, and his first day back Tyler caught him and Gwen going behind Courtney's back, making out under the bleachers—"

"Making what?"

"You know...kissing." She gave him a look, her eyebrow quirked slightly.

"Oh." Ezekiel felt his face heat up; he was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was not only _talking_ to a very pretty girl, which was very very rare for him, but _leaning_ on her as well, the two of them so close that he could catch fragrant whiffs of her flowery perfume...or maybe that was shampoo? It was nice either way.

"Anyway, ever since then Duncan's been all...super-stalker on her," the girl continued, shaking her head. "I swear, he acts like she's going to cheat with any guy who stops and says 'hello' to her, it's crazy."

"Oh." Ezekiel paused, thinking. "Well, that makes sense, I guess."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, you said he cheated on, uh—Courtney, right? With Gwen? So noo' he expects Gwen to cheat on him."

"Like karma?"

"What's that?"

"You know—what goes around comes around?"

"...Sorta. But moo'r like..." He paused; he felt like he was doing one of his mom's homework assignments, when he _knew_ a certain answer was right but she made him go back and figure out _how_ he knew it. The comparison itself helped something click in his brain, reminding him of one of his literature lessons. "It's sort of like Anaïs Nin said!"

"...Okay, you're gonna have to help me out with that one."

"Anaïs Nin—he said something like, if you think a certain way, you tend to...see things a certain way. Like, you expect people to do what you'd do, so...if you cheat on your girlfriend..."

"You expect your new girlfriend to cheat on you too?"

"Yeah!" Ezekiel grinned in triumph...then frowned. "That reminds me, I'm suppoosed to be in French class right now..."

The girl laughed. Ezekiel's heart fluttered for a moment—she had a really pretty laugh, he thought, and _he_ had made her use it. For a moment he couldn't feel the ache in his stomach or the caked blood under his lip anymore, his body straightening a little and his chest expanding with pride.

"That actually makes a lot of sense," the girl mused, smiling at him (her smile was as pretty as her laugh, he thought). She gave him a playful shove on the shoulder with her own. "You're new here, aren't you? Where'd you transfer from?"

"Huh? Oh—my house. I was homeschooled," he added at her confused expression. He frowned again, gingerly touching his nose. "Aw, man, that reminds me—my nose doesn't look too jacked up, does it? My dad'll cap a gasket if I get to his class and I've already got beat up befoo'r first period, eh?"

"Your dad's class? Is he a teacher here?"

Ezekiel gave a jerky nod, still feeling his nose. "Yeah. He's a Home Ec teacher."

"Home Ec? You don't mean Mr. Bouctouche, do you?"

"Yeah."

The girl laughed again. "Oh, wow, that's so weird. I mean—I can just sort of see the resemblance is all, now that you mention it. He's one of my favorite teachers."

"Really?" That fact made Ezekiel sort of excited.

"Yeah. I mean, he can be kind of gruff sometimes...er, no offense. I'm not sure if he really likes me, though."

Ezekiel frowned. "Huh? Why not?"

"Well, I...sort of set his shirt on fire once. I'm...kind of clumsy sometimes. Anyway," she said, quickly changing topic as Ezekiel's eyebrows shot up, "when do you have his class?"

"Um, fourth period, eh?"

"Me too." She smiled at him again, and once again Ezekiel felt slightly delirious. He was snapped out of that reverie when they suddenly stopped at the atrium, and the girl pointed to a door across from the office. "That's the nurse's office. You gonna be okay?"

"Um—y-yes," Ezekiel said shakily, quickly moving away so he wasn't leaning on her anymore. He wiped under his nose again and smiled nervously, hoping he looked good—or not too bad, at least. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, um—" She blinked, then chuckled again. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name?"

"My what?" He had been looking at the girl's dreamy green eyes as she said this, and for a moment he was anonymous to himself as well. "Uh—Ezekiel. Ezekiel Bouctouche, eh?"

"Well, I'm Bridgette Summers. See you fourth period, Ezekiel?"

"Ookay!"

Bridgette gave one last little smirk before she turned and strolling back down the hall toward her class. Ezekiel stared after her, watching her ponytail swing back and forth with each step.

He continued staring for a moment after she had turned the corner and disappeared, a crooked, goofy smile playing on his face. He was still smiling as he turned and went into the nurse's office, thinking that whatever happened when he saw his father later, there was definitely hope that this could turn out to be a pretty off-the-chain first day anyway, yo.

* * *

**A/N:** Am I the only one who actually likes Ezekiel's wannabe gangsta routine? I think I am, and it's sort of sad.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and please review! ;-D


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